"By noon, and it's just gone ten." "The whole seven hundred pounds?" "Sterling," said Mr. Levy "No cheques entertained." "Then," said I, with an air of final defeat, "there's nothing for it but to follow my instructions and pay you now on the nail!" I did not look at Levy, but I heard the sudden intake of his breath at the sight of my bank-notes, and I felt its baleful exhalation on my forehead as I stooped and began counting them out upon his desk. I had made some progress before he addressed me in terms of protest. There was almost a tremor in his voice. I had no call to be so hasty; it looked as though I had been playing a game with him. Why couldn't I tell him I had the money with me all the time? The question was asked with a sudden oath, because I had gone on counting it out regardless of his overtures. I took as little notice of his anger. "And now, Mr. Levy," I concluded, "may I ask you to return me Mr. Garland's promissory note?" "Yes, you may ask and you shall receive!" he snarled, and opened his safe so violently that the keys fell out. Raffles replaced them with exemplary promptitude while the note of hand was being found. The evil little document was in my possession at last. Levy roared down the tube, and the young man of the imperfect diction duly appeared. "Take that young biter," cried Levy, "and throw him into the street. Call up Moses to lend you a 'and." But the first murderer stood nonplussed, looking from Raffles to me, and finally inquiring which biter his master meant. "That one!" bellowed the money-lender, shaking a lethal fist at me. "Mr. Raffles is a friend o' mine." "But 'e'th a friend of 'ith too," lisped the young man. "Thimeon Markth come acroth the thtreet to tell me tho. He thaw them thake handth outthide our plathe, after he'd theen 'em arm-in-arm in Piccadilly, 'an he come in to thay tho in cathe--" But the youth of limited articulation was not allowed to finish his explanation; he was grasped by the scruff of the neck and kicked and shaken out of the room, and his collar flung after him. I heard him blubbering on the stairs as Levy locked the door and put the key in his pocket. But I did not hear Raffles slip into the swivel chair behind the desk, or know that he had done so until the usurer and I turned round together. "Out of that!" blustered Levy. But Raffles tilted the chair back on its spring and laughed softly in his face. "Not if I know it," said he. "If you don't open the door in about one minute I shall require this telephone of yours to ring up the police." "The police, eh?" said Levy, with a sinister recovery of self-control. "You'd better leave that to me, you precious pair of swindlers!" "Besides," continued Raffles, "of course you keep an _argumentum ad hominem_ in one of these drawers. Ah, here it is, and just as well in my hands as in yours!"